


I Watched Your Eyes Reflect Me In A Terrible Way

by skittles_and_oreos16



Series: Gallavich Things [7]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, Night after 5x06, and cuddles with yev, like a lot, mickey REALLY misses ian, so he wears his hoddie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 14:16:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3384779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skittles_and_oreos16/pseuds/skittles_and_oreos16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He swore to himself the day he came out at The Alibi that he'd never let Ian walk out of his life again and yet here he was with all the pieces of his broken, bleeding heart knowing that only gentle freckled hands could place all the shattered parts of him back together again. Ian was the only one that knew where each and every sliver fit, knew every piece to the puzzle."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Watched Your Eyes Reflect Me In A Terrible Way

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, so this turned out way more depressing then I meant it to. It was supposed to just be fluffy cuddling with Yev....Whoops.
> 
> I thought I'd just add I listened to Lay Me Down by Sam Smith and Discoloration by Dawn Golden while I was writing, also the title is from the second song.

The bed was too big and his heart felt too empty. It may have only been Ian's first night in the hospital, but it was the second night in a row of not being engulfed by that stupid fucking ginger octopus. His arms were beginning to ache from the constant reminder that they weren't being filled and it felt like his eyes were had been red and swollen since he'd watched Ian walk away with that nurse. He rolled himself into a ball on Ian's side of the bed and hugged the other boys pillow to his chest.

How was he going to make it to the end of the 72 hour evaluation? He wasn't, that's how. He could feel the familiar sting in the back of his eyes and he sniffed quickly. He wasn't a fucking pussy, he was done with the fucking crying. But he knew that wasn't true, he wouldn't be done with the fucking crying until Ian was back where he belonged, with Mickey, in their bed.

He groaned and rubbed at his eyes, finally pushing off the bed and pulling on a hoodie of Ian's he'd been sleeping on. He walked out of his room and into the kitchen. He grabbed a beer and went to sit on the couch. There was still suitcases and other shit littering the house. He squeezed his eyes shut at the memory of Ian rummaging through looking for fucking belts while Svetlana sat there saying, "Your boyfriend's losing his shit."

He downed the beer in two gulps and threw it on the coffee table in front of him and he watched as it landed right next to a camera. The camera Ian had been using constantly since he found it in one of those stupid suitcases. 

Without really thinking about it, Mickey picked it up and turned it on. The screen was bright in the dark, but not was bright as the smile Ian and Yev were wearing in the picture that popped up. His finger grazed the lit up screen and he flipped to the next one. It was a picture of him and Ian on the couch. It had to have been from just a few nights ago when they'd curled up to watch a movie and Mickey had fallen asleep on Ian's shoulder.

He grunted and moved on. It was full of random pictures, mostly of Yev. There were a few with Mickey flipping him off to block his face and some that Svetlana had to have taken of his kid and Ian.

Then he found what he had been searching for.

In a moment of absolute weakness one night, he'd grabbed the camera and stalked back to their room. Ian was spread out on his stomach with the moon lighting his bare back and making his porcelain skin look even more delicate. He'd walked around and snapped a picture, being sure to get Ian's face in the frame. He'd thought it was gay as fuck at the time, hell he still thought it was. 

He'd thought it would be a good idea to see Ian's face, but if the dull ache that formed in his stomach from looking at the picture was any indication, it wasn't helping. 

He shut it off and threw it back in the coffee table. He wasn't sure if it was the noise or something else that woke the baby up, but his cries began filling the nearly empty house. Empty because there wasn't a giant fucking ginger assed tree walking around and filling up every corner. 

He stood and slipped in to Svetlana's room. She was muttering something and he said, "I got him."

He walked to the crib and grabbed Yevgeny out. He slipped back out and closed the door as quietly as possible. He began bouncing his son and pacing between the kitchen and living room until it was no longer cries but sniffling and yawning he heard from the small body.

"I miss him too," he whispered into soft downy hair. "But he'll be back soon."

The weight of only a few hours sleep was beginning make his shoulders slump and his eyes droop. Not wanting to let go of the warmth of the baby, he trudged to his bed and crawled inside. He made a fort of pillows on either side and slipped into Ian's side.

Pulling the hoodie in close he watched as Yevgeny began to drift of to sleep on his stomach next to Mickey. The bed felt a lot less lonely surrounded my pillows and with the baby curled against him, but he couldn't help but wish Ian was there to wrap his arms around him and hold him close.

He swore to himself the day he came out at The Alibi that he'd never let Ian walk out of his life again and yet here he was with all the pieces of his broken, bleeding heart knowing that only gentle freckled hands could place all the shattered parts of him back together again. Ian was the only one that knew where each and every sliver fit, knew every piece to the puzzle.

His eyes were starting to droop once again and he let himself close them, only to be met with images of Ian.

Ian after Frank found them, Ian after all the times he'd pushed him away, Ian bloodied and cringing on chair, Ian before the wedding, Ian saying he was joining the army, Ian walking away, all the times he'd hurt the man he loved. Ian, Ian, Ian. 

Even in the darkness, silent, night he wouldn't leave him. He buried his face in the pillow and breathed deeply. He could smell his redhead and that made Mickey pull his hoodie tighter around his body.

Yev's soft breathing indicated he was asleep and he couldn't resist touching the little boys head.

Sighing, he closed his eyes and finally allowed sleep to wrap around him, knowing he'd wake up tomorrow morning with no Ian and two very empty arms.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm over on tumblr @inside-a-writers-mind18 so come say hi and leave a prompt if you want!! (: <3


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